


Whoop Dima deck him

by letthisroadbemine



Category: Anastasia - Flaherty/Ahrens/McNally
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-01
Updated: 2018-02-01
Packaged: 2019-03-12 05:57:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 747
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13541169
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/letthisroadbemine/pseuds/letthisroadbemine
Summary: Intrigued by the title? You'll have to read to find out ;)





	Whoop Dima deck him

**Author's Note:**

  * For [The royal misfits family](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=The+royal+misfits+family).



Here’s the thing about tricky situations- you never really think you’re going to get into them. You can prepare for them, but it never truly crosses your mind that it might happen until it’s happening. For Anya, this was proving to be very true. She had arrived at the bar after an exhausting day of work, expecting to meet a friend. The friend had never showed, and their calls had gone straight to voicemail. She had decided to stay for a bit, relax. What can it hurt, she’d figured.

That was, until  _ he’d  _ showed up. He had started lightly at first, a bit of banter, some flirting. Of course, he’d repeatedly ignored her “no’s.” And now, Anya found herself in a tricky situation. She eyed his jaw and briefly considered connecting her fist with it. 

“Just one drink with me?” the man- Gleb - asked.

“Thank you, but no,” she answered for the fifth time.

“C’mon, you’re alone! Surely one drink wouldn’t hurt,” he pressured.

Anya was through. Standing, she slung her bag over her shoulder and stood.

“Thank you for the offer, but no,” she said. He stood as well, towering over her.

“A pretty girl like you shouldn’t be spending the night alone,” he said.

“What I do isn’t your business,” she burst.

His jaw tightened. “You don’t have to be a bitch about it,” he snapped.

Anya glanced around, wondering if it was worth it to cause a scene. Luckily, she didn’t have to.

“Dude, leave her alone,” she heard a voice say. She turned around to see another man behind her, addressing Gleb.

“This doesn’t have anything to do with you,” Gleb replied. 

“Look, she’s turned you down multiple times. I’ve heard her. Learn to take no for an answer, jackass,” the man said.

Gleb grabbed Anya’s arm. “C’mon, sweetheart.”

Anya whipped her arm from his grip. “Don’t touch me!” she insisted.

The other man approached Gleb. “Cool it. She doesn’t want anything to do with you.”

Gleb ignored him and stepped around him. “Listen, bitch, I was trying to be nice.”

“Jesus Christ, man, you need a lesson in manners,” the man replied.

“If anyone needs a lesson in manners, it’s her,” Gleb fumed. “This cunt-”

Gleb’s sentence was cut off by the other man punching him the face.

There was a loud commotion as the bar reacted to this. Gleb hunched over, then straightened and brushed his hand against his mouth, revealing blood.

Turning to face the stranger, he threw a punch as well. The stranger caught it to his face as well, but reacted quickly. Grabbing Gleb’s shirt, he pulled him closer and headbutted him. Gleb staggered back and fell to the floor. The bar was yelling loudly now. 

Anya tried to hide the smug look from her face as the fight subsided. She walked over to where Gleb sat, still on the floor.

“Fuck you, asshole,” she told Gleb. Stepping back from him, she went up to bar where the other man was sitting. He was starting to show some bruises on his face, and was nursing a bleeding lip.

“Hey, thanks,” she said, sitting next to him.

He chuckled. “No problem,” he said, running his thumb against his lip. “I never miss an opportunity to punch an asshole.”

She grinned, turning to face him. “I’m Anya,” she said.

“Dmitry,” he replied, holding out his hand. She shook it, then sat back in her chair and sighed.

“Are you okay? Do you need a ride somewhere?” Dmitry inquired.

Anya smiled, shaking her head. “I only live a couple blocks away, I’ll be fine.”

“In that case, could I walk you home?” Dmitry asked. 

Anya considered his offer. “Okay,” she decided.

They left the bar together, chatting about what had happened. When they arrived at her house, Anya turned to face him. “Thanks for walking me home… and again, for punching that asshole.”

Dmitry grinned. “My pleasure.”

Returning the smile, she waved goodbye and entered her apartment, eager to wash away the night’s occurences in the shower.

 

…

 

The next day, as Anya was walking through the streets, she saw Dmitry. His bruises were now fully developed, purple and ugly.

“Hey,” she said.

“Hey,” he replied.

“How’s your face?” she asked.

Dmitry shrugged. “It’ll be fine. Nothing’s broken.”

Anya nodded, her eyes dropping to her blue converse.

“I don’t suppose you’d like to go grab coffee as repayment for punching an asshole for me?” she asked. 

He laughed. “Yeah, coffee sounds good.”


End file.
